


How to Make It in LA

by Daddygrump



Category: Game Grumps
Genre: AU, Artist Arin, Drinking, Eventual Smut, M/M, Musician Danny, Slow Burn, So their passions are still canon, lots of swearing, will add more tags later on
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-05-31 15:07:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6475129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daddygrump/pseuds/Daddygrump
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Even with Dan's patient and kind eyes, his grin was knowing and smug, and it made the shorter male's cheeks burn in protest. "Oh, uh. Nothing interesting." That sounded better than dishwasher, he was sure. It wasn't exactly something he was proud of. Dan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before he offered a knowing look. </i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><i>"Ohhh, no, no," the musician shook his head, "I don't mean, like, career wise. I mean what you do. Y'know. Besides check out lanky guys in bars." </i><br/><br/>Arin Hanson is a broke, aspiring artist living in LA, who's hopes have shattered as time goes on. He meets Dan Avidan, a friendly and optimistic musician with a struggle much like his own. The two are instantly captivated in eachother - but little do they know they have so much more to offer than a mutual supportline.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Wow. I'm actually doing this. I'm actually writing a long ass fanfiction. Holy shit, man.
> 
> JUST A HEADS UP! This chapter is probably going to be the longest one. Most of them will probably be half the length, because then I can update faster and stuff, you know? 
> 
> Anyway! I hope you guys enjoy this trainwreck. All feedback is appreciated, and if you have any questions or any requests you'd really like to see, send me a message on tumblr @dannyavidaddy
> 
> **Song featured -[Here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qC8jTlBSbJA) **

"Acting on your best behaviour  
Turn your back on mother nature  
Everybody wants to rule the world."

Another day, another dollar.

At least, that was the bullshit Arin Hanson reminded himself bitterly as he dragged his feet against the bottom of the too-small bar stool that humid summer afternoon, the exhaustion after a long shift weighing him down. Music was coming from the singer in the corner. LA lights flickered, people pouring in and out of the buildings surrounding; screaming children dragged along by fuming mothers, scumbags sneaking out of alleys with lipstick on their collars. Busy nightlife filled with strangers that Arin already knew he couldn't stand, and inviting signs to places he knew he couldn't afford.

Whoever started the whole _How to Make it in LA_ articles needed to be kidnapped, slapped around, and then tossed out into the streets penniless and hopeless like the rest of them. Arin came back to that thought time and time again, whenever he received a rejection letter or went months without a single art commission. Making it in LA wasn't something that was possible - unless you came from a lot of money, or had the connections _worth_ a lot of money. Which Arin, did not.

If you had told the 21 year old just after high school graduation that he would have been living in a crappy studio apartment, with a dead end dish washing job, making only nine bucks an hour, he would have laughed at you. Would have showed you his art portfolio, and poured out his dreams and his optimism. He would have told you he was going to make it big. He was going to be an animator, and his art would be hung and bid upon in every square mile of the city. He would have told you that when he moved out to California, things were going to get better.

The reminder of how ignorant he had been hit through his head like a migraine, and the brunette pressed a hand against his own temple. He was glad he had a drink.

Hitting the bar before he went back home to immediately go to bed probably wasn't the smartest thing he could have done. Money was tight as it was, and judging by how bad he felt, he wasn't going to spare enough for one drink - he was going to get shitfaced. And of course, not only did he live in the land of inconveniences. He also lived in the land of overpriced alcohol. What a life he had.

He wasn't sure if this was one he'd been to before. It didn't really have any redeeming qualities. He scoffed to himself. Then again, neither did he. This was perfect for him.

Arin's head bowed forward to press into his hands, still fighting the headache he had coming on. He didn't know what it was this time. Dehydration? Only getting 4 hours of sleep before a 13 hour shift? Who knew. When _didn't_ he feel sick? His fingers soothed at his temples, massaging, and pressing, and doing everything in his power not to focus on it. 

He just wanted to get drunk, stumble on home, and get ready for tomorrow. He had his day off Sunday. He just had to get through the next few days. 

During the attempt to focus on his breathing, his eyebrows crumpled together as his ears finally picked up on the harmony sang from across the bar. A familiar, upbeat harmony filling. It engulfed Arin with a wave of warmth, as he realized, _I know that one_. In spite of himself, he lifted his head to offer the band that he hardly acknowledged before another glance.

Even through the gloom of the bar, he radiated. Whatever kind of musician this was, it was a cover of some assholes from the 80s. He wasn't sure. He didn't really care much, either. He focused on the lyrics he knew by heart, his eyebrows shooting up as he watched just how into it the guy was - swaying his hips and using the hand that wasn't wrapped around his mic to bunch up the back of his wild hair. No matter how his lips turned to sing another word, the grin seemed to stay on his face.

"All for freedom and for pleasure  
Nothing ever lasts forever  
Everybody wants to rule the world."

As the song started to fade out, Arin moved his hand fully from his chin and placed them together, instead. He was geniunely awed that hardly anybody else was clapping along with him, or even offering their attention. In spite of them all, he clapped louder, and offered a light cheer in emphasis. 

The singer didn't seem to mind the lack of attention, as the goofy grin didn't fade. His eyes slowly opened after the song fully ended, and his gaze met Arin's almost immediately. He responded to the cheers with a further curl of his lips, and Arin dropped his eyes to his drink after, a sudden timid demeaner taking over. Maybe he had done a bit too much. But hey, the guy was talented, and he'd been damned if he'd let him perform and not be acknowledged.

Head tipping back, Arin let himself down the rest of his glass. That shit burned, and Arin wasn't really much of a drinker usually anyway. But he'd be damned if he was going to wallow in self-pity without at least being kind of drunk. Unfortunately, he had quite some beer to go, and he was running out of cash. 

As his glass touched back down to the marble counter, there was a shift beside him, followed by, "another one of those, please! Make that two."

Arin slowly turned his head and swallowed back his shock that, no way, the singing asshole actually sat himself down right beside him. All smiles, disheveled hair and a friendly aura almost suffocating Arin with how intense it was up close. As badly as he wanted to look away, he caught himself stuck keeping his gaze on the other's tanned face as he waited for the drinks. 

Finally, the singer broke the silence.

"Glad you liked it, man." 

Arin just kept staring.

The taller of the two thanked the bartender with a sweet tone, moving to grab both the drinks. He slid one over to Arin, and flashed a quick smile before raising his own to his lips. "Either that, or you pity me." Regardless of the other's joking tone, Arin flushed before he managed to response.

"Pity you? You got more talent than any of these unattentive assholes combined. You don't need my fuckin' pity." Briefly, he worried it came off more rude than he intended, but to his surprise his new aquantince threw his head back and laughed. A gorgeous, geninune sound that was soothing as wind chimes. 

"Thanks, man," the singer continued to chuckle as he spoke, but he shook his head as he did so. "You never know. Not everyone can appreciate true musical genius," he teased, before reaching out. Arin took his hand. "Dan Avidan. Your entertainment for the evening." "Arin." "Well then, Arin. You like music?" 

"Music is the worst. I was just _pretending_ to thoroughly enjoy your show," Arin countered sarcastically with a playful roll of his eyes. As hard as he tried not to, his lips twitched into a smile at Dan's repetitive laughter. 

When the other had finally stopped laughing to take another drink, Arin took the time to look him over.

A red flannel over what he assumed was a tanktop. Untied converse underneath tight, black skinny jeans. There was an elastic around one of his wrists - he assumed to tie his hair up, if needed. Dan's locks were thick and a darker brown than Arin's, with a kind of messiness that looked that it was intentional. Stubble against a tanned, strong jawline. He looked good. He was what Arin would have assumed was the definition of tall, dark and handsome. Add that on top of talented - why the fuck was this guy playing _here?_

"Arin?" 

He blinked. "Huh?"

"I asked what you do." 

Even with his patient and kind eyes, his grin was knowing and smug, and it made the shorter male's cheeks burn in protest. "Oh, uh. Nothing interesting." That sounded better than dishwasher, he was sure. It wasn't exactly something he was proud of. Dan's eyebrows furrowed in confusion, before he offered a knowing look. 

"Ohhh, no, no," the musician shook his head, "I don't mean, like, career wise. I mean what you do. Y'know. Besides check out lanky guys in bars." Arin immediately felt a wave of guilt at the accusation, but judging by Dan's wink and flirtatious tone, he had been anything but mad. "For example. I'm 29, and should be working someplace stable, but I sing, write music, play video games. What do you do?"

The fact that Dan had been so nice as to shrug off Arin's embarrassment toward his career and not push it had him ease into his seat. As he swirled his drink around in his hand, he tossed his shoulders, looking up to the brown eyes that looked at him so intently. "I play games too, but not as often as I'd like. I draw. Like, a lot. Like, usually instead of taking a lunch break." "No shit?" Danny exclaimed, with a new found excitement, grinning so wide it must have hurt his cheeks. "I have got to see some of your stuff."

Arin was suddenly extremely happy he managed to afford a phone with a camera. "Yeah, shit, hold on," he muttered, placing his drink down and reaching into his pockets. Unlocking his phone, he scrolled through his gallery until he came across a few that he was confident showing. He passed it over, and Dan took it without hesitation.

"It's more cartoony than anything," he immediately defending, a sinking feeling in his stomach as Dan eyed his work, "I like more personalized styles opposed to like, hyperealism, you know?" His fingers drummed anxiously against the top of the bar. "It's a lot of fan stuff, I know, but... you know." He didn't think Dan knew.

After another few seconds of silence, Arin was about to snatch his phone back. He even raised his hand to, before Dan finally spoke up. "You free handed this?!" "Uh, yeah." "Dude." Danny placed the phone down and looked to Arin with an expression of pure, unadulterated admiration. "That is fucking incredible." 

Arin never in his life wanted to hug somebody so bad. 

He resisted.

"Ha. Thanks, dude. If only everyone else thought that, too." He cringed inwardly, because really? He just got complimented and he's already throwing himself a pity party. But, as he figured earlier, Dan wasn't like most of the assholes who lived there, so he simply offered a sympathetic smile. "I know how critique goes. It just takes a lot to get recognized, man." "You're telling me," he agreed, lifting his glass to take a heavy few sips.

"Nah. What I'm tellin' you, man, is that it'll happen. You just have to keep working at it, you know?" 

Arin pursed his lips. Honestly, he wanted to shoot back, with the typical 'you don't know what it's like' but that didn't work this time - because he was sure that Dan did know what it was like. To be rejected, and dismissed, time and time again. He decided to play along - what did it hurt? "You think so?" He asked jokingly, doing his best to make his tone as childish as possible.

The look on Dan's face was one he hadn't seen in a long, long time. One that was sincere, believing, and had Arin's cheeks burning a harsh crimson all over again.

"I know so."

The boys looked at each other for what felt like hours. It was embarrassing, for Arin was the first to look away, lightly pushing his near empty glass further away from him. "I should... Get going. It's late." Before he could reach toward his wallet, Danny had already dropped down a 20 onto the counter, in order to buy both their drinks. "Dude," Arin protested, but Dan raised a hand to shush him. 

"I got it, man." Dan flashed a grin, eyes crinkling playfully, but his face relaxed as his voice softened. "Can I make sure you get home safe?" The shorter of the two blinked. He did not want to admit it, and he would not, but the offer was one he couldn't remember receiving before. He was immediately bubbling up with glee, but he settled for shrugging and then narrowed his eyes in mock hesitation. "I dunno, man. My mom taught me not to get into the car with strangers."

That had Dan doubling over again with laughter, in which Arin let himself smirk; something was foreign to him now. He wasn't used to the giddy feeling pouring outside of seemingly every part of him, making him glow. It made him feel, even just for a minute, like he wasn't about to go back to his shithole apartment to wake in just hours to work into a miserable day. "What?" He asked as Dan came back, still cackling.

"We're walking, dumbass," the musician scolded him with a snicker, one arm immediately tossing around his newfound friend's shoulders, "you think I can afford a _car?"_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, only one chapter in, and already sweet people on tumblr sending me messages about how much they love it. That's _awesome_ man. I'm really excited to see how well this goes. 
> 
> **Update Schedule: At _least_ one chapter every 4 days, if not more often. **
> 
> Contact me on tumblr @DannyAvidaddy

Arin stared at the lake beside them, wondering how easy it would be if he tried to throw Danny in, just to get his hair to flatten.

"Your hair is the fucking worst." 

Dan's chuckle was almost lost in the sounds of waterfountains pouring back against the water. He was sprawled out along the grass, all long limbs and tanned skin, shirt riding up to reveal just a sliver of his stomach. His hair, of course, seemed to brush out in different directions - frustrating the artist to no end as he tried to sketch it on onto his paper.

"Fuck, man! I swear you're doing this on purpose!" "Doing what?" Danny countered with a shrill fit of laughter, "Existing?" Arin shot him a look and flicked him with his pencil from where he sat. 

Most people would want to sleep in on their day off, instead of running out first thing in the morning. 

In Arin's case, sleeping the whole damn day would be ideal. To stay curled up in his tattered covers, one arm tossed over his eyes to block away the harsh sunlight that pierced into his window, and just sleep sleep sleep into the next day. Really, if there wasn't anything else he enjoyed doing, he would. But he already had so little time to himself, to work on his art, that sleeping in wasn't an option.

To excel, you needed dedication. Arin was willing to throw away a healthy sleep schedule to get in what he loved to do most. He'd even reject a day to hang out with a cute singer who had texted him a million times that morning.

That is, until he mentioned Arin could bring his sketchbook.

"Please," Danny drawled with a mock scoff, letting his eyes flutter back closed as his friend kept shifting his gaze from paper to the details of Dan's face. "You love having me as a model. I'm _exquisite_." "An exquisite pain in my ass," Arin muttered, but couldn't resist the smirk that fought against his lips as Dan laughed again.

Danny _was_ a pain to draw. His hair was only part of it. He chose the worst possible position to lay himself out for Arin to capture, arms by his head against the grass below him, wrists facing upwards. Slender legs spread and one raised by his knee in a perfect 90 degree angle. Though, Arin supposed he could have used the practice - but he was still going to be grumpy.

His friend, however, couldn't have been more smug. 

"Can you hurry it up?" He asked, feigning impatience. "I wanna see if you can do my beauty justice." Arin shook his head. "No way, dude. You're way too beautiful to capture on paper." 

Though it was intended to be more sarcastic than anything, it had Danny grinning all over again, and Arin _hated_ how it made his heart flutter.

"Alright, I got the basic idea. Come take a look, dumbass." Dan had practially thrown himself up. Scrambling onto his hands and knees to take a peek, he whistled long and slow, moving to rest his chin against Arin's shoulder. He was more than impressed, and even reached out to trace the edge of the paper.

Arin couldn't resist beaming. "Like it?" 

"I fucking love it," the taller of the two corrected in a coo, keeping his eyes locked on every individual details. It was still mostly a sketch, but Arin had gotten him down perfectly - especially give the fact that he had only been working for ten minutes. 

They both just allowed themselves to relax for the time being. Danny curled up, chin still tucked against Arin's shoulder, and Arin finding himself leaning back into the other's chest. Both gazes stayed glued to the paper, admiring the work silently. 

Arin's face burned at how his body tried to lurch forward to chase Dan's warmth as his friend pulled away, keeping his eyes locked onto the sketchpad, even though he wasn't really paying attention to it anymore.

"I wanted to test your work first," Danny started with a teasing tone, and his grin only grew as Arin gradually made his eyes toward Dan's direction, "but I have something for you!" As he sat back on his heels to dig through his pockets, the lighter brunette had to force himself not to laugh - Dan's lanky form wavered as if he'd fall as he searched vigorously through his jacket. It only took a minute before he found what he was looking for.

"Here!" Danny cried out in exaggeration. Immediately, he was hanging over a crumpled, torn piece of paper over with bright eyes.

Arin scoffed. 

"Oh, dude, you shouldn't have," the artist taunted, looking over the messy paper with a quirk of his brow. "Shut up and read it." With a roll of his eyes, he listened to the isntructions and unfolded the messy flyer that was thrust into his hands. At first, he scanned it over with disinterest. Then his breath caught in his throat.  
_  
Exhibition of New Works_

_Open Public Viewing_

_Claim Your Booth, Recreational Center, Sepulveda Blvd_  
  
Arin quickly skimmed over the date and time, approximately a week away, and skipped the rest of the information to snap his head up, meeting Dan's warm, rapturous smile. "Where the hell did you find this? I haven't heard about it." Arin was always the first to know about art shows - even if he got rejected from most of them. There weren't any requirments listed on this one, though, which was in his favor.

"Oh, well, funny story actually," Danny began, all teeth still showing from the length of his grin. "I was just chillin', doing some singing at this little cafe on the other end of town-" he gestured in the direction of said location, "-and I hear this dude talking about some kinda art show. Normally, I don't care much about that kind of thing, you know, but then I was like; Oh, shit! Arin would totally be down for that kind of thing!"

Which was incredibly flattering, considering they had only known eachother for about four days, now - and hung out twice. Was Arin really on his mind then?  
"Yeah, I am _totally_ down for that kind of thing."

"Yeah! So, I was going to approach him, but I didn't even need to. He crumpled it up and tossed it off, but I was able to catch it before it got gross, y'know? Which is why it's in such bad shape. Sorry about that, by the way."

He couldn't help it. The artist broke into laughter, one hand moving to shove Danny's shoulder, almost knocking him back onto the grass. "You actual idiot. Don't apologize for finding me a show. Jesus."

Dan snickered himself, and went ahead and let himself lay fully back onto the ground. He stayed in a position much like the one before. His hands folded behind his head, shooting a wink up at the other. "Only the best for you, m'lady." His teasing demeanor died down enough for him to tilt his head, curiosity overtaking him. "You gonna do it, then?"

It didn't take long before they were both sprawled out, side by side. It was as Arin considered, the sound of gentle murmurs and footsteps against pavement just feet away from them keeping him calm, that he realized any regret from hanging out instead of staying at home was completely gone. And so was a majority of his self-pity he had been wallowing in for the best two years, because holy shit, this was an oppurtunity.

"Yes. Yeah, I'm going to do it, dude. I'm totally gonna do it." 

He laughed breathily, one hand moving to brush back his hair, fingers curling into his blonde streak as he marveled in the idea - of his own pieces at an _art show_. His head turned to the side, seeing little but Danny's stubble. "I really owe you man. Fuck, I owe you so bad. If there's anything I can do, don't hesitate to tell me."  
That really seemed to get his friend's attention, and Dan was suddenly on his side - side of his face in one of his palms, his legs curling to face Arin completely. There was a mischevious glint in his eyes that Arin remembered seeing at the bar. "Well, it was my pleasure, man! But, there is one thing..." 

Arin scoffed, shaking his head as he already started to laugh again. "If you're looking for a hot beej, dude, I'm afraid that's not an option. I'm not that kind of girl, Danny," he teased, admiring the way the other's face seemed to brighten every time he made a joke. Danny simply flipped him off. 

"Who do you take me for?! I'm classy," he protested in a whine, but then fell silent, until Arin looked back to him. Danny wet his lips as his eyes lightly scanned over Arin's face, looking for confirmation. "If you want to repay me.

Come to my next show, and then let me take you to dinner."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooooh, looks like Arin got himself some good happening for once. Art show, _and_ a date? Let's hope everything goes uphill from here...
> 
>  
> 
> **Next Chapter (as of now) is going to be Danny-centric, so it'll be more of his point of view/way of things than Arin's. Cool? Cool. I'm probably going to switch it up every once in a while when it's neccesary.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a heads up, this chapter isn't super eventful. More of a filler than anything, showing more of Dan's side and introduction, but the next chapter will be up soon and has more too it.
> 
> I am also SO sorry it took so long to update. I was going through a rough time. But hey, back to regular updates! Follow me on tumblr if you want to keep track - @dannyavidaddy

Three in the morning probably wasn't the most considerate time to play, but when did Dan give a shit about his jerk neighbours, anyway?

Instead of taking it inside, like he knew he should, his head lay tilted back as his legs kicked up against the small, apartment balcony railing that faced the city. Occasionally, his eyes would flutter back open to scan over the flickering streetlights and signs of life throughout the darkness, closing back again each time he plucked a certain and satisfying note.

Staying up this late throughout the night wasn't all that bad. His sleep schedule was thoroughly fucked already. It did get lonely, though. Dan tried to contact lots of his favorite people through text - sending Barry a teasing, ' _wake up, barry, it's christmas_ ', a reminder of ' _I want my vinyl back soon, dick_ ' to his other friend, Ross, and even a ' _good morning in advance, over-achiever_ ' to Arin, in attempt to brighten up his mood before he went off to work. No replies. Not even after an hour. 

It was whatever. 

Though, he couldn't contain the light flip of excitement in his stomach when he heard the balcony door shut behind him. One eye peeked up at the dark figure walking forward, grin playing against his lips. "Hey, man. Didn't wake you, did I?" 

"Oh, just along with every other apartment in the state," His roomate had deadpanned, stretching his arms up above his head. Brian's lips were pursed in a tight line, though his eyes were friendly (and tired). Danny continued to strum idly, switching between Jackson, the Cure, Queen, whatever tune filled his head at the time. His friend got comfortable. Brian getting comfortable required the dragging of chairs to place close by, and the sound of a coke nosily opening. He must have brought one out. 

"Isn't it a little early for that sugary shit, man?"

"Isn't it a little early to be moping to wake up the entire complex?"

"I'm not moping," Dan objected with a scoff, sinking lower into his seat. His fingers didn't falter from where they plucked, but his gaze shifted to watch his friend shoot him the most doubtful look he'd seen in weeks. Which was pretty impressive, considering that was pretty much just Brian's face.

There was a silence that settled over them as Dan played. It wasn't awkward, never was. Sometimes the best company was just that. Not having to talk. He couldn't have asked for a better guy to live with.

"How's the thing Audrey doing?" Dan risked, the sigh coming from Brian's lips answer enough. Not well, probably. There was another pause, more heavy this time, before Brian answered.

"I don't know. Miss her. Was supposed to have her this weekend, but..." 

Dan understood. Brian's ex-wife was probably fighting on giving her up for a day or two. It had been a pretty nasty seperation, and the paperwork wasn't all done yet. It was rough to see his buddy without his little girl attached to the hip. Even though she hated Dan. He never knew why. Maybe it was the hair.

Dan's lips twitched in a sympathetic smile, eyebrows furrowing. "Sorry to hear that, man. It'll all work out." "Yeah, I know," Brian agreed with a palm rubbing down his face, and Dan wasn't sure if his friend truly knew, or just wanted to end the conversation.

But Brian seemed pretty interested in changing the conversation. 

"Alright, your turn. Why the hell are you playing out here in the middle of the night?" The question didn't catch him off gaurd by any means, but Dan still didn't know how to answer. He wet his lips, opening his mouth to speak - but he closed it again with a huff, fingers finally pausing against his guitar. 

The elder of the two's eyes narrowed as he looked at his suddenly wary friend, studying the falter in his expression and the way he seemed to swallow back his words. It didn't take long before he snapped his fingers, flashing a smirk toward his friend. "It's a guy, isn't it?"

Dan blinked. A brief look of defeat crossed his expression, before playing again at full speed - with a louder strum, ignoring the confrontation as it came. 

Brian's eyes glistened with victory, and he slammed a hand down on his own knee. "It is! You _met_ someone! And you didn't tell me, you fucker!"

Dan fought back a smile, his chest tightening at the thought, and he parted his lips to sing, not acknowledging his friend any more than that.

"There must be some misunderstanding."

"Dan."

"There must be some kind, of _mistake_."

"Stop."

"I waited in the rain for hours-" 

"It's a guy," Brian decided, one hand swatting at the other's guitar to get him to stop playing. His arms crossed tightly over his chest, with an expression so smug it would have been hopeless to deny.

It's not like he was head over heels in love, or anything - hell, he only just met the guy a few weeks ago, and their first more formal (and what he hoped to be romantic) day together was in a few days, but Dan knew there was _something_ there.

The first night they met, at the bar, he was instantly captivated in Arin's smile. Walked him home, even! It was so fucking cold, but he did it anyway. Which didn't sound like some crazy achievement, but when it came to walking people home, Danny usually got invited in, they fooled around, and then he left the next morning. He didn't even think about that with the younger guy. He just walked him back to do just that. Talk to him. Make sure he got home safe, maybe get his number. The way Arin had thanked him and wished him good night, all meek smiles and hesitant steps back into his home, and Dan's heart had fluttered for the first time like that since high school. So, he supposed, yeah, he met someone. 

Danny simply grinned once more, all teeth and eyes crinkling. He tossed his shoulders. 

"We'll see."

The two ended up stumbling back into the apartment, walking over the heaps of trash that invading the floors and counters without much care. It got kind of hard to keep everything together, with Danny trying to launch his music career, and Brian's shitty desk job - he 'had a PHD', he would remind everyone all the time as he ranted, 'why couldn't he find a better job already?' 

They went to their separate rooms, feeling through the dark. Once Danny's fingers found his bed, he was quick to hop on, strip himself of his clothing, and check his phone once more. Kind of ritual, honestly. Nearly naked and instagram before bed. Nice.

The conversation with Brian had him curious. He typed in Arin's name, hoping for the best, but came up to no results that were worth looking through. Dan didn't know his last name. Before he gave up, he added 'art' to the username - almost releasing a cheer as he found the profile with a picture that was clearly Arin. The page was filled with a lot of artwork, yeah, but some personal stuff too. Pictures taken of him with friends at the bars and around town, selfies that had Dan laugh from how ridiculous of a face he could make. His grin and heart both dropped as he scrolled across one of the newest photos.

It was one of the most beautiful girls he'd ever seen in his life. Dark, puckered lips against Arin's cheek as he took the picture. Her hair was jet black, with an undercut, but a long flow of blonde peeked out the side of her, and he recognized that style. Arin had the same blonde in his hair. Dan's shoulders sagged at how happy Arin seemed to be with her by his side, and he realized, she had to have been a girlfriend. He asked a straight guy on a dinner date. 

His phone was quickly locked and tossed over onto the bed, squeezing his eyes shut as if to fight off the embarrassment of trying to hit on him a few days before. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Was he still supposed to take Arin out? Was Arin even coming to his show in the first place? Oh, God, was he going to bring his _girlfriend?_

Dan only kind of felt like a lovestruck teenager when he groaned his annoyance into his pillow, throwing himself onto his stomach to hide his burning face. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's hope this all works out, oops


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fillers, fillers, fillers. Trust me though. Next chapter's up with this one. Read them both,

"What do you _mean_ entry fee?!"

Arin's shoulders dropped. 

As Danny looked down at the receptionist, his palms placed on her desk with an incredulous look, Arin's own lips parted to protest alongside his friend - but he couldn't bring himself to say anything. 

It had been going so well. Dan had walked him in, they admired the office (by far the nicest one Arin had been in). The artist was so excited to register for the show, that he wasn't even too embarassed of his messy appearance in comparision to all the clean-shaven, well dressed individuals walking by them time and time again. He had marched up, asked politely. Now this fee was being thrust at him? 

The woman at the desk simply stared Danny right back down, chewing her gum with an open mouth. Her expression and tone of voice were condescending, and she repeated herself, as if speaking to a child. "He needs to pay the _entry fee_ ," she said, voice as curt as possible. "It was on the flyer, that all artists wishing to participate in the show, needed to pay." 

Arin didn't remember that. Why didn't he remember that? After his brows furrowed his concentration, he faltered. The flyer they had got had been too crumpled to read much of anything else. Of course he didn't see it. 

"What the hell does he need to pay for?" Dan questioned, eyes flashing with objection, "he's going in to make money, not spend it!" It didn't faze the woman - 'Danielle', her nametag read - in the slightest. She rolled her eyes as she listened. 

"You see, sir," Danielle sneered, "your friend would be paying for the _priveledge_ to sell, and get his name out, while covering the costs for his booth, refreshments, and advertisement." "Screw all that," Danny deadpanned, "he can bring his own damn booth, he can bring his own fancy lemonaide or whatever the hell you'll be giving people, and I can be the advertisement. I know this city like the back of my hand, I know what people want to hear and where to find them!" 

The redhead drummed her dark nails against the desk as she waited for him to finish. Their eyes pierced into one another, challenging. Arin's fingers brushed forward to take a look at the entry fee. He knew, although Dan was trying to help, that this wasn't going to change a thing. It was hitting him hard now. That this amazing fucking oppurtunity he had, to finally have the chance to get himself out of his situation, to get recognition for his passion, was ripped right out of his reach. After years of working, rejection, being torn down, he had been given something to lift his hopes, and it was fucking gone.

He felt like he was going to throw up. 

"I can't afford this," Arin stated with a shake in his voice that had Dan balling his hands in fists. Danielle cast her eyes to him, now, without the slightest bit of sympathy. "If you can't afford an entry fee," she drawled, voice cutting through his skin, "then this wasn't the show for you in the first place." 

Arin couldn't fight her on that. How was he supposed to excel if he was too broke to even pay to get into a show? He nodded, swallowing back a lump in his throat as Dan bared his teeth - obviously about to yell at the woman's blatant disrespect. "Don't, dude." The musician turned to him with a disaproving expression, and Arin dragged one of his own hands hard against his face, which was burning in humiliation. 

"Look, isn't there anything I can do?" Arin wouldn't neccesarily say he was begging. He was pretty close, though. "I can pay you back after the show." Which meant dipping into his actual living fund next paycheck but hey, whatever, right? 

"That's not how things work around here, Mr. Hanson. I'm terribly sorry," she deadpanned, then looked away from them entirely. She began typing away on her computer, her full attention at the new task at hand, other than a dismissive, "good bye now, boys." "You've got to be kidding me," Dan exclaimed, ready to fight once again. Arin protested weakly by tugging on his friend's sleeve. 

"It's fine, dude. Let's just go." "Arin!" 

"I want to go," Arin insisted, and without a look back, he was turning on his heels and dragging himself outside as Dan stared back after him. 

It felt a lot colder outside than it was before. It could have just seemed colder with the hot tears Arin felt running down his cheeks, mixing in with cool drops of rain, that he wiped away in irritation. He was fucking crying, when this was something that he should have seen coming anyway. He was no _fucking_ good, and he wasn't going to get anywhere. Not with his budget, not with his lack of talent. He was stuck on the shitty, dead-end life he was living, and there wouldn't be anything he could do about it. Why did he even try anymore? 

He sat himself down on the damp pavement, knees curled up and arms atop of them. His head hung low, forehead pressed against his pants, as he listened to the murmur of voices passing back and forth, knowing that even though they weren't talking about him, he looked like a wreck. And he was. He wouldn't blame them if they did talk about him. 

It would be a welcome change from being a nobody. 

Finally, Arin heard the door open and close, and didn't have the heart to look at his friend's face. He couldn't. He just wasted his time before the gig, where he could have been relaxing or practicing. He felt beyond ashamed. Embarrased. He wanted to go home. 

Instead of speaking, Dan sat himself down. Then he lifted a small, white envelope from his lap, and handed it over. 

"What the fuck, man?" Was all Arin could utter, as his friend placed the envelope gently into his hands. Dan was still wary, but now he was grinning, and his eyes glistened with so much glee that Arin's heart skipped in his chest. 

"Open up," Danny's soft voice replied, laughing breathily to himself as he leaned against Arin's arm. 

The artist didn't waste any time in peeling it open, unfolding the paper inside as the envelope dropped down onto the wet pavement. He scanned over the big lettering, and once more, his heart fluttered because no way this was happening. 

There had been a header of 'Congratulations!', with all the information of the art show listed below. Time artists needed to be there, the location of the booths and how to find yours, and the measurements for print sizes, alongside material being provided to list pricing and hold buisness cards... 

It sunk in slow as Arin read it over before looking back up to the beaming musician with a blank stare. "How?" 

Instead of answering, Dan played dumb. He raised his hands in defense, like he had no idea. It clicked. No. Way. "You payed two hundred fucking dollars so I can get into some snobby art show. You don't have that kind of money." 

They always talked about the struggle of having any extra money at all - hell, Dan didn't have a new pair of shoes to replace his old, beaten up converse, and he was passing over all this money for an overpriced event that Arin wasn't even sure he was talented enough to participate in. "Well, not anymore, I don't," Danny offered with a playful curl of his lips, shooting over a wink.

Arin went quiet as he kept his gaze on the other, expressionless. His friend's smile slowly faltered until he was squirming with obvious discomfort. 

"Shit, that was weird, wasn't it?" 

"You have to get a refund. That is way too much money on me." 

"Arin-" Dan began, eyes widening in shock at how his friend seemed to sink further into his misery, but Arin wouldn't let him finish. 

"It's too much, Dan." 

"Arin!" 

Again, he tried to interupt, but apparently Arin was on a roll. Dan's teeth grit together as his friend struggled to keep speaking. "I don't deserve that-" 

"You _do_ deserve it, god _damn_ it!" Dan finally snapped, and Arin flinched back in surprise. It took almost a full, silent minute of Danny taking heavy breaths and the artist staring in awe, before he could continue. 

"You do," the singer repeated, voice quieter but more firm, one of his hands raking through his unruly curls, "okay? Like, you say you aren't that good, that you don't deserve that, but that's not true, man. Even if you think otherwise, it's your dream. _Everybody_ deserves a shot at their dream, Arin. 

I've seen your art, the variety in that shit. You can cartoon it up but switch to hyperrealism whenever the fuck you want, and that's _incredible_. I can see the fucking passion you put into every individual piece, dude, and I see how damn hard you work. 

You are the most driven, talened, unique person I have ever met. You work the worst fucking job hours, you drink yourself into oblivion when you're alone, and you _still_ keep going at it, dude, and you know what? That shit's hard. But you still do it." He wet his lips, shaking his head with vigour as he continued. "So, whatever, tell me you won't take it. But I'll drag your ass out there myself if I-" 

Before he could finish, Arin had reached out, fisting his hands in the fabric of Dan's shirt. He pulled him forward until their torsos pressed together, his face immediately dropped into the crook of Dan's neck. His arms were thrown tight around his shoulders, and they were so suddenly so close, so warm, and Arin knew he was crying again but he would not show it. Not after that. It knocked the breath out of poor Danny, but he erupted into a fit of giggles as he hugged him back. His chin rested atop of Arin's head, the two of them staying locked against eachother. Arin was rambling into his shoulder, "you idiot, you can't afford that, oh my god, thank you, thank you man, shit, that's so, oh my god", in various patterns, and all Danny could do was rub Arin's back and hold him as he let it out. 

Arin eventually calmed down, settling for nuzzling thankfully into Dan's neck as the other soothed him, feeling relatively ridiculous for feeling the dumb tears irritate his eyes again; but it's not like Dan would judge him, so if he cried, whatever. His shirt was already damp from the steady raindrops, anyway. 

"You're so cuddly," Dan mused affectionately, his fingers brushing idly through the blonde in Arin's hair. Arin was completely lost in the much-needed affection, making a noise relatively close to a purr, face flushing as Dan chuckled into his ear. "You're like a cat. That's cute." 

The compliment snapped the artist back into reality and he sheepishly dropped his arms. "Cute, my ass. I am _vicious_ , Dan." "Pff." Danny scoffed as he let his arms fall back, too, hands immediately shoving into his pockets. Arin was thankful that the quick transition wasn't awkward - then again, nothing with Dan was ever awkward. 

The musician's eyes slowly cast across the road. "We should probably get out of here, then, man. You still got a band of one to watch tonight," He cooed, gesturing toward himself. He looked back to Arin again, shooting a lopsided grin. "Unless you wanna hug some more." Arin rolled his eyes to the side and then nodded in the direction of the street. "Come on, money bags. You need to make the gig." 

Whatever the reason, Dan smiled, all warmth and adoration, and he pushed himself off the wall. Arin watched him closely, cheeks still burning, but he returned the smile with a drop of his gaze. 

"Alright, big cat. It's just you and me." 

They had ran off, Arin's jacket tossed off for Danny to hold above them. They laughed as they stumbled through crowds, avoiding the rain as well as confrontation, snickering whenever they bumped into someone and got scolded on the spot. 

And Arin realized, even if the show didn't go well. Even if none of his friends came by to see him. Even if he didn't sell a single piece. Even if his hope flickered closer to dying out once again. 

As long as he had Dan by his side, he'd be okay.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY NO I DID NOT FORGET ANY CHARACTERS i just didn't include them all bc I have plans for the missing ones to come in, so don't worry <3 Please enjoy, this chapter took me SO long to write lmao

Suzy Berhow took a step back to admire the set up, clasping her hands together with a small squeal of pleasure as she nodded in confirmation. Art prints were neatly spread against the back and side walls of the wide booth, pricing labeled in the corner of each one. Every medium from neat pencil shading, charcoal, painting - Arin had it _all_ , and she couldn't be more proud of him.

"It looks great! This is great! Isn't this great?!" 

She gasped out, standing on her tiptoes to stare over Arin's shoulder. He was currently bent at the waist, still adjusting the back paintings to look exactly like he wanted them to. The fee they'd struggled with was ridiculous, but he had to give it to them, this set up was phenomenal. Booths were neatly spaced out, and artist's where placed nearby eachother in cateogry - traditional artists, animators, ceramics, writers - it seemed like a lot of them had traveled to come to the show. Which, now, Arin could understand, was why it had been such a big deal. 

"It's pretty fucking great," Arin agreed. His hands dropped as he looked over his work, feeling a sense of pride rock through him. "This is unreal, dude." As he spoke, he turned, and the two shared giddy grins. 

Suzy sighed, with a dreamy expression, reaching out to take Arin's fingers in her own. "I'm so proud of you," she blurted, blinking repeatedly to keep herself composed. Besides, if she got emotional, then Arin would too, and she was not about to ruin her best friend's art show by making a mess out of him. 

He wanted to mutter out some self deprecating joke that he normally would have, to lighten the mood, but there was an echo in his head of _you deserve this_. He just shrugged instead. "Wouldn't be anywhere without you," was his response, and it was true. If his friend hadn't given him the boost and moved out here with him, he didn't know if he'd ever have a chance like this.

"You're going to make me cry," She admitted, and her slender arms wrapped around his shoulders, sniffling as she looked up to him. Arin had burst into a fit of laughter, shaking his head as she started to tear up. "What, and ruin your makeup?" 

"I came prepared. Waterproof." 

The thought had Arin laugh again, and suddenly they were giggling in sync, Suzy's hold loosening to look behind her shoulder as she did so. The show didn't officially open up to the public for another ten minutes, but the security was oddly leniant for letting in family and friends. Small groups surrounded nearly every beaming individual. The sun peeked in through the large, open glass windows, giving them a natural lighting to show off their work. Really, the displays were beautiful, and Suzy never would have guessed that her best friend would have his work up someplace like this. Some of the places she modeled weren't this pretty. 

She finally gave him some space, pulling at her skirt as she twirled once, taking it all in. "Geez, Arin. This is so good for you." Her eyes met his. "This could be the beginning to a lot, you know." 

Arin knew. That he could make a lot more out of this, than just money. Connections. Getting his name out. Just being acknowledged was good enough for him. He nodded, cheeks nearly hurting from how wide he had been smiling. "Let's not say anything yet, but I'm holding you to that." 

"Holding her to what?" 

That familiar, chipper tone of voice had Arin's head snap to the side, and his chest was suddenly overwhelmingly flowing with so much emotion as he saw the same, dorky ass grin he'd been so accustomed to the last few weeks. He knew Dan would come, obviously, but it was still a pleasant surprise that he got in so early. He had whipped out a quick, "hey Dan!" before he processed the small, struggling child in his arms. She had two handfuls of his hair in her tiny fists, which the blonde guy trailing behind them seemed to be encouraging.

"Hey," His friend smiled, wincing as the pouting little girl tugged seemingly hard on his locks, his free hand moving to smack the snickering blonde beside him. "Everything looks _fantastic_ ," Danny complicated with a low whistle, strolling the rest of the way forward. Briefly, his eyes settled on Suzy, and Arin could have sworn he saw Dan's eyes narrow - but before he could blink, his friend was back to grinning. 

"Who's this?" Arin managed, looking wide-eyed at the child curled up in Dan's arms. She looked beyond unhappy, and if she didn't look so exhausted, he would have feared she was about to start crying. "She's my roommates," Dan said, sounding just as tired as the little girl looked. "Brian's getting some snacks, so I went ahead and brought her over. So, this is Audrey. Audrey, can you say hi?" The little girl simply kept her gaze on Dan, warily. He huffed. "Alright then. Ross, what about you, can you say hi?" 

The blonde beside him had thrust his hand out immediately, smile so smug, that Arin almost didn't want to take it. "What's up, Arin? I've heard so much about you," He said, too-blunt, and the artist grinned as Danny smacked him, once again - right in the back of the head. "Yeah? All good things, I hope." "Oh, dude," Ross drawled, lips curling back in a suggestive leer, "you have _no_ idea." 

What was that supposed to mean? 

Before Arin could question it, Dan was quick to interupt. 

"Not going to stay long, man, this is all you! Just wanted to say good luck before we walked around," His friend explained, beaming as he looked over Arin with what seemed to be pride. Pride. Arin felt another giddy grin bubbling up, catching himself as Danny's eyes refocused on Suzy - this time, the singer's smile faltering moderately. 

"Sorry, I didn't catch your name?" "Oh!" Suzy scrambled to wave, an apologetic look crossing her features. "Sorry about that! Suzy - Arin's a really good friend of mine," she explained, then blinked as the realization sunk in. "Wait, Dan. Dan? You're the one who bought Arin his way in," she exclaimed, and suddenly she was hugging him, too, before he could get a word in. Arin didn't miss the way Suzy's explanation caused Dan's shoulders to sag in relaxation. 

They pulled away from eachother, as she thanked him repeatedly, and Ross had thrown himself forward for a hug too - why, Arin wasn't sure, but looking at the three of them there to support him had his heart skip. Suzy, who had woken up at the crack of dawn to help him prepare. Dan, who made all of it possible and even took time out of his day to come by. Ross, who Arin didn't really know yet, but had already been oogling his fanart section. Any anxiety from earlier seemed to wash out with a breath, and before he knew it, the doors had opened, and groups of people started pouring in. 

"Good luck, Arin!" Suzy gushed, moving forward to give both his cheeks a squeeze. Before Arin could thank her, there was a warm pair of lips against his cheek, just above Suzy's fingers - and his face burned as he realized it was Danny, who pulled back with a smirk, adding, "good luck, big cat." 

As for the luck? Turns out he didn't need it. 

Arin could not have asked for a better outcome of the day. 

It was slow at first, but after his first sale, they kept coming. Buisness cards (cheaply printed, simplistic designs) were gone within the first few hours. Children dragged their parents over, pointing to their favorite pieces - Arin went as far as to give away one of his favorite Zelda prints to a little boy who came by, for free. The look on the kid's face was payment enough. 

Eventually, to work on when nobody was around, he had pulled out a small canvas. He painted as people looked around, placing his brush down to answer questions or acknowledge pricing. Painted as a considerable group came up to watch him work. Continued as he realized the audience was attracting other people - and attracting other people was bringing more sales. 

He'd gotten _comissions_. He couldn't remember the last time he was asked. From cartoon portraits of people approaching him themselves, to more complex, framed and matted watercolors that they were willing to pay for in advance. Names and numbers were written down into his notebook, and he noted that before lunch, he had the first page almost completely filled. 

As things started to slow down, Danny had eventually came back around - introducing his roommate, Brian, and giving Arin a much needed boost to finish the day. From varied touches, a brush through his hair or a nudge against his arm, to affectionate banter that almost always ended with a warm smile. Once invited, he had sat himself down, slid his acoustic on his lap and played slow and soft, as more people came by. Arin gave them the rundown on the booth as Danny gave a soothing tune for those waiting. They couldn't talk much, as it got busier and busier after that, but they always exchanged glances and shared cautious smiles. 

It was by far one of the best damn days of Arin's life. 

Eventually, the public was ushered out - leaving the artists and their guests alone to unpack. Or, in Arin's case, just his guests. They refused to let him help. "Nonsense," Suzy told him firmly, as her and their newfound friends sprawled out across the floor, organizing the last few prints left and materials into their rightful places. "You've worked so hard, and you let us all tag along. It's the least we can do." 

Suzy did seem to know where everything went. She corrected Ross when he mixed up the wrong materials, and often praised Audrey for her hard work of taking things out of boxes only to put them right back in. Brian himself was placed close by his daughter, partially making sure she didn't ruin anything, and partially organizing, himself; Brian and Ross didn't even _know_ Arin, really, and they were quick to throw themselves in to help clean up. Suzy had urged him to go on, gave him a smile, and before he knew it, Dan's hand was curled around him to drag him out. He couldn't even ask where they were going. Dan just kept dragging him, and dragging him, his only response to Arin's countless questions being, "it's a surprise! Dinner can wait, man!" 

Arin hated surprises. With a passion. Any time someone said "it's a surprise!", he was bound to panic or just haul ass in the other direction. Though, as stated, time and time again, Danny was different. Dan had all his trust. 

And hey, even if the suprise was him being pushed off a fucking building, that would be fine too. Because at least now Arin would die happy, acknowledged, and knowing that people out there were hanging his work. No suprise at all could ruin his afternoon. He was set. 

\-- 

Danny had covered Arin's eyes with his hands as they wandered about. Arin's could tell they were walking uphill, if the pain in his thighs were anything to go by - but it was taking a _long_ ass time to get there. If he remembered, they had dinner to go too, and now Arin would be the one to treat the both of them, and if Dan didn't hurry this up, they wouldn't get to eat before midnight. Arin wanted to eat before midnight. 

"Dude, I'm going to trip, and I'm going to fall flat on my face," Arin muttered, too distracted to even flush when Danny's free arm curled around his waist to keep him steady. 

"You'll be fine, we're almost there," Dan insisted, snickering as the shorter male groaned in response. "We are, I promise! You have no faith in me, Arin. Frankly, I'm hurt." 

"You're hurt?! I'm the one about to drop _face first_ down a fucking _mountain_ , dude!" 

"Just shut up and be patient! It's going to be really awesome, okay?" 

Another few minutes of stumbling, and Arin was flailing to smack at Dan's hand, trying to peel it from his face. "Dude, no more, it's dark, I want to see what's-" 

Dan's hands dropped, grinning ear-to-ear. 

Well, Arin wasn't certainly thrown off any kind of building. 

But he could see a lot of them. 

They were completely seperated from the city. The field was so wide, and open, that Arin was sure it was bigger than the city itself. Soft, swaying grass flowed into their vision of the ground, dipping sharply below, before towering buildings poked into view. Lights flickered a variety of white, greens, red, contrasting against the dark night sky. Arin took in a heavy breath. 

There was no smell of rain-soaked bricks, nor overflowed littered alleys. No smoke puffing out harshly into his direction, no crowds of people pushing past him to get to where they need to go. It was nothing but a calm that he hadn't felt in so damn long. 

"I figured you could use some down time, so... Here's my special place." 

Dan's voice snapped Arin out of his trance, and he looked down, admiring his friend's smile from where he had sat down in the grass, resting on his palms with his legs kicked out in front of him. Arin scrambled to sit beside him, offering a grunt of acknowledgement. 

Instead of breaking into conversation right away, Arin let himself lean against his friend. His head dropped onto his shoulder, and he felt Danny's cheek tuck against his hair. His chest constricted with the simple movement. "Jesus, Dan. It's fucking gorgeous out here." Dan had chuckled in response, tilting his head as he marveled at the familiar surroundings. "Yeah," he agreed in a slow, soft murmur, "but it's special for a lot of reasons. I write here a lot." "You write?" "Music, yeah. I'm just way too terrified to use any of that shit yet." 

Arin blinked and turned his head to face him, brow quirking in question. "Thought you just did covers." "So does everybody else," the musician admitted, raking one of his hands through his hair. He let out a heavy sigh through his nose, eyes lidding the slightest bit as he kept his gaze forward toward the lights. 

"What do you write about?" "Don't know. Whatever strikes my fancy." "Like?" Arin pressed, geniunely interested. Dan was silent for a moment before turning to face his friend, too, and Arin almost flinched back as their noses almost touched. Almost. 

"Whatever. Sometimes whatever sounds funny. Sometimes dumb angsty shit." He paused again, and his lips twitched, obviously pressing back a smile. "Sometimes cute dorks I meet in the bar." Arin swallowed. 

"Uh. Must be a lot of those, man. You probably meet people all the time." Now was the time to play it off like a joke, just in case. Before he got ahead of himself and made assumptions. Before he did something stupid and risked the incredible friendship he had now. But that idea flew through the window and Arin's heart fluttered as Dan objected, "nah, just one," and reached out to tuck the blonde of his hair behind his ear. 

Arin lightly pushed away the other's wrist, embarassment seeming to overflow throughout him. He never got embarassed, not that easy, but Dan just showed him time and time again new parts of him he had yet to discover. It was just as frightening as it was exhilarating. "Don't fuck with me." 

"Why would I do that?" The taller male's voice was too soft, too calm, and it was driving Arin insane. He was far too composed to be messing around, and it was a whole new tone of voice from what Dan usually had. Cautious. Scared, even. "You deserve better than that." The speech from days before rang in Arin's head, and Dan must have remembered, too, because he also murmured, "you deserve the whole damn world, though." 

Danny's fingers brushed down from his hair again, tracing over the side of Arin's chin, meeting the scruff on his face with another hidden smile. They traced down his neck, his chest, resting his whole hand idly on Arin's hip, their eyes not seperating from eachother once. "Arin." 

"Ye-Yeah." 

Dan's gaze held so much in them. Arin's breath hitched at the intensity. "I can't stop thinking about you." "Fuck," Arin near-squeaked, one of his hands raising to cover part of his face. "Fuck," he repeated, trying to keep himself composed, as he added, "me neither, God, Dan-" 

"Anytime you're mentioned, I smile," Danny interupted as he saw Arin's falter, and much to his satisfaction, it had the other ease, the pressure being taken off of him. "Everytime my phone goes off, I really, really hope it's you. Every single time we hang out I'm smiling and I'm laughing and you make me an idiot, Arin, you really do." 

"You're already an idiot," The artist protested weakly, and the adoring laughter he got in response made him warm all over. "You're _such_ an idiot, Dan. So dumb. You should have told me this shit forever ago." 

Now it was Dan's time to look shy, and his shoulders raised slightly in a sheepish demeaner. "I, um, couldn't. I was sure you were with someone." Someone else? Ah. So that was why Dan had been shooting daggers at Suzy. Arin knew he caught something. 

"Seriously?" 

"I was trying to be respectful," Dan muttered. That caused Arin to scoff. Suddenly they were laughing again, noses brushing up against eachothers, Arin carelessly fisting one of his hands against the other's jacket. It felt so natural to be so close to him, to feel his heart stutter underneath his palm. Arin's own eyes fluttered halfway closed, and Dan held his breath as he watched him. 

"Arin," the musician tried to begin once more, but he trailed off as he was tugged even closer. 

"Just shut up and kiss me, you idiot." 

There was a lingering moment of Dan's breath fanning across Arin's lips. The hand on his waist tightened to keep a grip, as Dan leaned himself forward, giving the artist plenty of time to pull away. But God, as if that would happen. Their lips met once, in a soft, chaste press of a kiss. Immediately, Arin felt all the color run to his face, and they had pulled back, shakily, making eye contact once more - just inches away from eachother. Arin wet his lips. Dan's eyes followed the action. 

And then they were _kissing_. Arin's arms hooked around Dan's shoulders, their second kiss filled with so much passion that he was sure he'd fall without the support. Wet, slow slides of lips and roaming to reach for eachother, to hold every part that they'd held back on. His fingers threaded through Dan's curls, squeezed at his shoulders, ran down his back. Dan's own caressed his hips, brushed up his sides, fell down to his thighs. 

Arin felt heat, he felt adored, he felt like he was just exploding with emotion, because fuck, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt so wanted, or needed to kiss someone so bad. He was curled up against him, making out by the trees like teenagers, and none of that mattered, because it was okay that he felt like one. All his stress melted away with each nip against his bottom lip, all his resentment and self-doubt seemed to escape with each breath. Dan made him feel like he had no more problems, like he could stay there kissing him all damn night, even though he had work tomorrow, and know what? Maybe he would. 

It was all so much, but not _enough_ , and Arin was falling falling falling, until his back hit the grass below him. Their lips didn't break contact, still melting together as Dan crawled atop of him on his hands and knees - balancing on his palms by Arin's head, and keeping his legs bent for leverage. Arin's body was begging for him to breath more, his chin felt a little raw from the stubble rubbing against his chin, but he still had tore away unwillingly, only letting his jaw fall slack to catch the air he had been missing. 

Dan was panting too, staring down at him in awe from where he kneeled. His smile slowly widened, eyes looking Arin over with so much affection that his heart was skipping all over again, and he couldn't help but grin back. Dan laced their fingers together with one of his hands, moving to fall down beside him. 

Arin knew he didn't need to talk, he did. But instead of listening, he asked, "did I ever tell you that you have the most gorgeous fuckin' smile?" 

That smile spread across his face again, and Arin decided it was worth it. "Nah. Did I ever tell you that you were the best piece of art in the whole show?" 

"Nah."

"Then I guess we're even," Dan hummed, lifting the hand that he held in his own. He pressed a careful kiss against the back of it. He dropped them back down onto the grass, still tight togehter. 

Arin chuckled, a sudden sleepiness washing over him. They'd been out all day, and making out for God knows how long - but he didn't want to go home. Not now. Not at all. Not with how warm Dan was tucked against his side. Or how all he had to do was turn and he could have those soft, pretty lips captured in his own again. No. He'd stay a while. In fact? Maybe he'd call in sick for work.

The artist turned fully on his side, free hand moving to tug Dan closer by his jean's belt loops. "Kiss me again? 

" _Hell_ yes."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the cheesiest shit I've ever written, and it's so disgustingly loving, I'm embarrassed but also not, so don't make fun of me I am begging you lmao, thanks.


End file.
